


It's Just A Little Bond. Bond.

by graestar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Bonding, Community: hp_nextgen_fest, Discussion of mental illness, Family Dynamics, Forced Proximity, Getting Together, HP Next Gen Fest 2018, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, POV Alternating, Party Games, Secret Relationship, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graestar/pseuds/graestar
Summary: When James and Teddy are pushed to the limits of their relationship, which include a bonding charm and several secrets, will they feel as strongly when everything is out in the open?





	It's Just A Little Bond. Bond.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my beta, RuArcher who kept me sane, supported me and made me smile. Thank you to the prompter, who inspired me and pushed me to write this piece I'm so proud of. And thanks to the moderators, who are so kind and amazing.

Teddy knows nothing good can come from asking James Sirius Potter to help him. 

Things involving a Potter never go swimmingly. _Never._

He can recall curling against Harry when he was a _lot_ -lot younger, aged five or six—and a lot more naive than he is now—and innocently asking, _“Why has so much happened to you, Harry?”_ Because if all the stories about Harry Potter had taught him anything, it was that Harry always found himself in danger, even if he hadn’t looked for it. Or that was what Harry always said, anyways. _“Trouble seems to follow me, that’s all Teddy.”_

Teddy hadn’t thought it would be important then, but upon reflection now, realised how important the common theme running through all those stories actually was. Over the years, Harry had proven time and time again that no good came from being around a Potter. There was the time Harry had taken Teddy to Diagon Alley and a group had tried to rob the store they were in. Then there was the time that Harry had tried to prepare a casserole for the family, because Ginny was working away as a Quidditch reporter, and had almost burnt the entire house down. 

There were plenty of references to argue the fact, and Teddy truthfully didn’t need to dig far enough into them to find one. He finds himself thinking of them all when Harry stands by the wall, wearing concern like a coat, while Healer Jadyn looked Teddy over and a rather _unbothered_ James beside him. He wants to give Harry _the look_ , the one that Harry always gives him, but he doesn’t really want to pass blame in a situation as tense as this one is, even if it was true. 

This is another example of when being around a Potter is bad, and he knows he isn’t the only one who thinks it because if trouble does follow Harry—and it quite clearly does—there is a good chance it has spread through genetics to the eldest Potter. 

This should mean Teddy— _who isn’t a Potter_ —should be safe, except he isn’t. 

Because stupidly, and naively, only four weeks ago when Teddy first pulled James’ soft, _twenty-two-year-old_ lips to his in the middle of the bar after playing a rather stupid game of truth or dare, he hadn’t thought James would bring him bad luck, only good if any. 

Perhaps if Teddy had remembered the way trouble clung to the Potters, he wouldn't have acted on the crush he had been harbouring for close to two years; he wouldn’t have agreed to let James come to his grandma’s house to find the photo album for Lily. Teddy most definitely wouldn’t have allowed James to wander freely through rooms Teddy had always been banned from.

Teddy had hated truth or dare during his days at Hogwarts, but he possibly hates it even more now that he is being prodded by spells and forced to have his skin brushing James’. Especially because he wants James’ skin against him because it burns when it isn’t, and he wants the burning to stop, he wants everything to just stop. Even for a second. 

He also wants James to _bloody_ kiss him and he wants the two of them to forget about not telling Harry, and not letting _anyone_ know, because Teddy _needs_ his lips like he needs air, and Teddy is adamant he’s going to crack and shatter over the hospital floor if they don’t kiss. 

Because he is in love with James Sirius Potter. 

Possibly long before the stupid game that got them here, and way before James had been giving him a blowie on the floor of his grandma’s kitchen. The blowie had been a pretty fantastic part of the day, probably the only fantastic part. But everything else is all a mess now, not because of the blowie, but because he is lying and concealing, and Teddy isn’t very good at it because his hair usually gives him away. 

And usually, he wouldn’t complain— _not by any measure_ —because he truly doesn’t care who knew what he was up to. People know the son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks likes both genders, if not all humans. It had been front page news, not that Teddy ever thought it deserved such an honour. But no one knew that James and Teddy had entered into a relationship, together—comically dubbed _Jeddy_ by a drunk James—and it had forced Teddy to do the very thing he had never been very good at; _lying_. 

Especially when the next thing the Healer comes out with is the worst possible news in the current situation, that apparently only he is freaking out about. 

“They’re bonded, Auror Potter. Magically _fused_.”

Oh _fucking-fuck-bag_. 

Teddy doesn’t need a mirror to know the colour has drained from his face. The sweat building on his collarbone, beneath his armpits, and on his upper lip is proof that he was worrying, more so than he cared to admit. He doesn’t think it can get any worse until he looks at James, who is more oblivious and uncaring than Teddy likes him to be, but he knows he can’t make a scene so he simply shuts up. Which is worse. It means Teddy is shouting in his head at James who cannot hear him, and it also means that James won’t wipe that fucking smirk off his face as he continues to look at the mumbling plant in the corner—the one James is too fucking interested in for someone who just found out they were bonded. The smirk, the one Teddy would usually kiss him for, but currently is only makes him want to scream at James about until it vanishes, is growing. Like Teddy’s rage. Because he can’t stop thinking about kissing, and kissing won’t solve this, because kissing is how they got into this mess. 

Kissing is actually Teddy’s downfall, and before he can stop himself, he realises he’s in freefall. He’s sinking to his knees and his breathing is becoming difficult to manage, his palms have become slick with guilt and fear, and he wants to cry, but forces himself not too. Which adds to the pressure, the one building in his head, heart, and chest. He’s sure he’s going to pass out, fall and hit his head most probably and then Harry will have a chance to have a look around his head, find out that he rather likes James’ cupping his—

“They’re, _fucking_ what now?” Harry says, in a rather un-Harry-like voice with a rather un-Harry-like expression. 

He was usually so calm, collected. But the expression now gracing the face of Harry Potter, Auror and Chosen One, is not decidedly not calm, and he is not looking as though he has anything in check. Harry looks how Teddy feels, which doesn’t bode well for either of them. And Teddy is panicking again, his pulse is so loud in his ears he’s sure his eardrums are going to give out, and he can’t not hear things, Teddy likes birds chirping and water running, he can’t lose that. He can’t. 

“Bound. _Combined_ together. Moulded together as one. A pair, like a salt and pepper shaker. Like a married couple without the vows and confetti,” Healer Jadyn says, her tone so matter of fact it makes him clench, his muscles twitching from how tightly wound he has become. 

He doesn’t think, and that’s his excuse as Teddy nudges James, sparking a grunt and an odd stare from him before James begins to rub his elbow, which feels strange, because Teddy also wants to itch his, in the same place, the _exact_ same place—as though he has been stung by something. 

He’s mad at himself that it takes him so long. Teddy is even madder that James hasn’t figured it out, especially when his dad is an Auror and his aunt is _fucking_ Hermione Granger-Weasley, well known smarty pants. They’re bound, like really bound. Like their feelings and touches, and emotions, and breathing—they’re bound. 

Can James hear him?  
Can he feel how panicked he is? Does he know?  
Does James _fucking_ know? 

“By bonded do you mean...okay, what do you actually fucking mean? And I’m sorry for my language, but really, who the fuck can keep their calm in a situation like this? This is bloody, fucking mental? Isn’t it? I’ve done mental. I’ve lived mental. But this might be close to the top of the mental.” 

Harry is spiralling. 

Everyone knows it, but he doesn’t. 

Even as Harry scratches the back of his head rather erratically—something Teddy has only seen him do on three accounts. Once, when Teddy had let him know his grandmother was becoming less like his grandmother, and asked if he could stay with him. Again when Ginny informed Harry, over a pot-roast, that he was having a third child although the pot-roast was delicious. And finally when James informed Harry he didn’t want to play professional Quidditch and instead wanted to work in helping infuse magical and muggle technology together harmoniously—which Teddy thought was rather _James-like_ , but apparently he was the only one who thought so. 

Healer Jadyn was giving Harry a sharp smile—one Teddy assumes is given to most parents when they asked too many questions and begin to derail massively. “I assume that you’re familiar with old marital customs with pureblood marriages, Au-Mr Potter.” 

James sniggers beside him as Harry’s cheeks burn red, and Teddy finds himself wanting to be sick, unsure if it’s because of the swaying he’s doing with all the processing. He’s going to vomit, he’s sure of it. The horrid feeling is coming up the back of his throat, and he is trying to breathe—he really is—but he can’t get enough air, and he can’t control the growing urge to heave, it’s all too much and he’s sure this is it, this is when everything shoots out of him, changing the room forever, and blasting the family in truth and Thai curry from last night. 

“It’s okay,” James whispers. 

It’s barely anything, just for Teddy. But it’s enough. 

Teddy doesn’t breathe, he can’t, but he doesn’t need to as James’ hand brushes over his and their fingers loop for a mere second, and it’s enough—fuck it’s just enough and the curdling and the swirling seems to seize, and Teddy wonders—briefly—if James is a master of Teddy’s emotions, until their fingers unlink and Teddy drops his chin to his chest to hide the dismay of their touch breaking. 

Healer Jadyn is still talking. Words falling from her lips, but Teddy can’t hear, not for a while anyway, only coming in at the end, and he’s sure he’s missed so much. But James had touched his hand, and Teddy is sure it’s a good excuse in the circumstances. “—good. It’s custom for the two conjoining families to give a blessed item that would strengthen the bond, improve magical strength and...improve fertility, for the newly married couple.” 

Teddy catches on before both Harry and James, his eyes widening as he begins to count his heartbeats, the only thing he currently can do, except, they’re not in sync. One half is loud and the other is dim, and for a moment, Teddy wants to shout that he's broken, and that his heartbeat isn’t in the right rhythm, because he oddly knows his rhythm, he has memorised it all the times he’s panicked over the years. 

“Your son and godson have touched an object blessed with such...customs, and, well, not to speak out of turn, but they’re—”

“We’re married.” 

Teddy’s intention wasn’t to just blurt that out so quickly, but when his hand moves to his chest and he feels his own heartbeat, doing the dance it usually does, he knows he fucking knows the dim heartbeat isn’t his. It hadn’t been, and he knew, he fucking knew but they didn’t. 

“I can feel James’ heartbeat,” Teddy adds, only looking at the Healer who seems to nod sympathetically, but Teddy isn’t sure why. 

It’s not a bad heart, and under different circumstances, Teddy wouldn’t mind listening to it, by those circumstances he means listening to it against James’ chest, not as a part of him, and he realises once again, he’s fucking spiralling. 

James seems to re-enter the room at that declaration. “You can feel my heart? That is fucking cool. Dad, you hearing this?”

Teddy is sure Harry has, but he seems to be in a state of freefall Teddy can recognise well, and ignores James. Teddy half wishes he could ignore him too. He loves him, he knows he does, but right now James is being a git, and Teddy can’t fathom a git right now. He can’t. 

“Brilliant,” Teddy adds, sarcastically. His hands move, rubbing his thighs erratically, a coping mechanism he both hates and can’t stop himself from doing. “Fuck-ing- _fantastical_. I mean... _fucking_ -ball-bagsing’-shit-house. I can feel your heart.” 

James doesn’t say a thing, and Teddy isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. He can’t tell. All of his radars and emotions are sprayed against the wall like someone has just pulled him apart. 

The only thing Teddy hears, like the soundtrack to the moment, is Harry chanting over and over again: “ _Ginny’s going to kill me. Ginny, will actually murder me. Oh, Christ. Oh, thundering bollocks. Ginny is going to kill me._ ”

* * *

James finds that Teddy apologises a lot more when they begin dating than he did when they were just friends. He just laughs carelessly, offers James a smile or a grin or anything that diffuses the situation, but now, with images of their hips connecting and their lips bruising the other in one another’s minds, Teddy apologises—a lot. Possibly too much, James doesn’t know, he's never really had someone that wants to apologise before. 

Teddy’s continuous apologies continue until they arrive back at Potter House, and it is only when his mum begins yelling that Teddy halts, because if there’s one thing James’ mum can do, it’s halt an important conversation. Her voice is frighteningly sharp, so much so, James worries her words might actually obliterate his dad, but currently, his mind is focused entirely on Teddy and how his hair rapidly changes shade to represent the fluctuating emotions he was running through. 

“So, were married before I could even propose, cool,” James says with an innocent smirk, climbing the staircase to his room to pack. “Do we get to ask for wedding gifts now?”

Teddy dips his head before shaking it, and James feels a deep ache—one he couldn’t explain or fathom—rushing over him—he assumes Teddy feels it too because he hurries to close the gap as they climb the stairs, occasionally brushing James’ fingers. They both sigh when they reach the top, their fingers looped without thought. 

“I know, _‘be serious James’_ ,” James mumbles, releasing Teddy’s hand as he runs it through his hair. “Be _‘Sirius James, not James Sirius,’_ ay?”

Teddy looks up, shooting him a half-smile, before he wiggles his mouth from side-to-side. It’s the expression James knows well, he’s seen it when he’s about to climb his broom and the weather is rotten and Teddy is worried; he’s seen it when they kissed for the first time, truth or dare bridging a gap James had wanted to close for such a long time. James knows a lot of Teddy’s looks, he’s been looking for quite some time. He doesn’t regret it, he just regrets how he’s not quite sure how to _rid_ those looks just yet. 

“We’ll be alright, they’ll undo the spell—because I’m the son of _Harry James Potter,_ saviour and Auror to all—and we can go back to doing marital things, while not being bonded at the heart, skin and…” James breaks off, and he watches as Teddy narrows his eyes at him, assuming—wrongly, of course—that he’s going to be vulgar and gross, but in fact, it’s something else entirely.

James feels strong. Stronger than he usually does—and he has always felt pretty fucking strong. He brings his index finger to his thumb, knowing his wand is in his pocket and he can’t do wandless and wordless magic quite yet, and he clicks them together.

He’s shocked.

Flabbergasted— _which_ he didn’t know was even a word until he heard Scorpius use it—because he’s watching a small flame dance between his fingers. The fingers he has clicked, with a flame that is both real and very fucking warm. 

“Alright, I could _not_ do that before.”

Teddy swallows, letting out one of his deep sighs and James already knows this isn’t good because he’s now the Human Torch, and being the Human Torch—which was a fantasy when he was younger—is not how he wants to continue his adult life. 

“I think our magic may like one another as much as we like each other.” 

James snorts. “Then our magic is fucked, amiright?”

Teddy didn’t reply. 

“Y’know because, we fuck. Right? You get it?”

Teddy shakes his head in disappointment, opening James’ bedroom door. 

Things only worsen once they are left alone. James begins to feel the small and invisible thread that's connecting them grow stronger as they pack James’ things. It was Teddy’s idea to go to his, James assumes it’s for privacy and to test the bond out, but as Teddy continuously avoids eye contact, he’s becoming sure it's so Teddy can escape into the thousands of books he inherited from his father, Remus. The ribbon, which James naively thinks is simply connecting them and making them strong, is actually making it hard for either of them to be more than three steps away from one another without one of them feeling close to vomiting. 

Or both of them—they learn this when James attempts to use the en-suite and finds Teddy barging through the door having some sort of stroke. When his dad walks back in, James is holding Teddy’s hand—not _really_ giving a single fuck if his dad feels uncomfortable or not. 

He rather likes Teddy’s hands. He likes how long and thin his fingers are, the strength in them when they grip his prick as he grazes his teeth down his neck. James rather appreciates a lot of Teddy, a lot more than he has before they had gotten stupidly— _but amazingly_ —drunk at that bar. He would never tell him, not willingly, that he had planned for no one else to turn up, and that it had been in the making for bloody weeks. James doesn’t let Teddy know this because deep down he had liked him for such a _criminally_ long time, and he’d only waited as long as he had because Teddy—who was ‘a man around town’—always had the interest of someone other than him. But when Teddy became single at the same time as James, he couldn’t hold back anymore, and he hadn’t been able to hold back as he crashed his lips into Teddy’s and gripped his blue hair with his fingers, and lost himself in the woodsy but sweet, scent of Teddy’s aftershave in the booth of that bar. 

James wishes Teddy had been wearing it today; the scent calms him, but he settles for the musky one that filters into the air as they stand holding hands in the en-suite bathroom from James’ room as James’ dad stands in the doorway.

His dad, who doesn’t bat an eyelid that they are holding hands.

His dad, who James hasn’t really told that he isn’t straight, but rather that he is uncaring if the person who makes him laugh and makes his heart flicker, is a boy or a girl at all. 

Harry Potter, who is so _un_ concerned that his son is holding hands with his own godson—or James god-brother, if there was ever such a thing—doesn’t even raise an articulate eyebrow, just smiles, like he bloody approves. 

“I’ve spoken to A.M.R.S, they’re going to visit the house later on,” Harry says with his usual calmness, the one he fakes when he’s at work, and tries to use on James and his siblings, even though they all see through it. “Sorry, Accidental Magic—”

“ _Reversal_ Squad,” James finishes. “We aren’t _thick_ Dad, we are grown adults. One of us actually works in the Ministry, remember.” 

He says it with a tease to his words, even if he meant it fiercely. James is unsure why he suddenly feels a wave of anger towards his dad when he enters into the room, but he does. It’s unsettling, but James is sure it’s always been there because it doesn’t feel foreign or odd, it just feels...expected. The thing that mainly unsettles James is that he wants to scream at his dad, pick away at him and his uncaring facade, and ask him why he isn’t bothered, why he doesn’t care now, when he had cared so much what the family looked like for most of James' childhood. “ _Just smile, James, the cameras are watching,_ ”, and “ _be good, James, don’t show us up today of all days_.” In all of this, James expects Harry Potter would be quite unsettled by his son holding another man’s hand, and he isn’t, and it annoys him, because if picking his nose is unsettling, why is this okay?

Why is everything James does now acceptable, when his troublesome behaviour in the past hasn’t been? 

Why is him being in love with Teddy easier for his dad to understand than him wanting to punch someone in the face for calling Albus a _‘bad-Potter’_? 

“Your mum asks that you say goodbye before you both go to Teddy’s,” Harry says with a fatherly-smile, and it only further angers James. And he wishes it doesn’t because he’s not ungrateful, he loves his dad. 

A lot.

Always has, always will. 

And he hates it a little as his dad leaves, even more so that he doesn’t make a comment about the fact James and Teddy’s hands are still linked. 

Teddy traces his hand with his thumb, a cautious movement, but one that cages the anger immediately. “Y’alright?” he asks, and James stares into the flickering eyes, the ones that are changing shade faster than Lily on Photoshop. “I can...um, feel your… _feelings_?”

“Yeah. Of course—I mean, _yeah_. Yeah, I am,” James mumbles, biting the inside of his mouth. “Just, he wasn’t, you know, bothered?” Teddy arches his brow, and James half-rolls his eyes as he sighs. “We’re holding hands. I thought—expected, should I say, that he would be.”

Teddy licks his lips. “I think he probably knows that this sort of enchantment or curse—however you want to look at it—keeps us pretty close together. Hence why its used on arranged marriages.”

“Arranged?” James splutters. “People don’t...use these _willingly_?” 

Teddy shakes his head with a short laugh. “I don’t know a lot, but,” he shrugs his shoulders as he lets go of James’ fingers, and a hole opens in James’ chest he rather hates, “when I had a look at werewolves, and mates...I came across these sort of bonds, and, well, when purebloods wanted to remain ‘pure’, they made arrangements to marry their children to the most ‘suitable’ suitor at the time.” 

James feels a wave of sorrow fill him before he quickly realises that the feeling has nothing to do with him, but everything to do with Teddy.

“My grandma was meant to have one, but…”

The feeling quickly vanishes, and James takes a gasp of air as he sees Teddy smile. 

“She chose love. Like my parents did. And like yours,” Teddy finishes, flicking James’ index finger with a smirk. 

James let his eyes drift to the floor, focusing on the thread he can feel blowing inside of him, attempting to capture it when it brushes his metaphorical hand. He feels the silk, the softness that tickles him and makes him wish it could wrap around him and touch his skin all over. 

“Shall we finish?” Teddy calls out, as he walks to the door and James blinks as his vision returns to him. “I mean, you can’t stay at mine naked, even if we are secretly together.”

James smirks. “You wanna bet, Lupin? You’ll be begging for me to be in my birthday suit.”

Teddy’s laugh fills James’ chest with a fire no one can put out, and he holds on to it for as long as possible.

* * *

Ginny had taken it about as well as she could. She didn’t smash a plate as Teddy had expected, but Albus still had to take her wand off her. Teddy hangs close to James as he listens to his parents argue below once more. Albus, who seems to find the entire situation highly amusing, keeps bringing them up snacks that range from _Bertie Bott Beans_ to popcorn he made around his parents arguing, just to keep an eye on the unfolding drama. 

Albus leans in close, so close Teddy can hear also. “You alright then, _Jamborine_? Heard you’re _stuck_ in a _tied-up_ situation.” Teddy never understood why Albus always made corny jokes, but he did always smile at them.

James snorts in appreciation, elbowing his brother, and it’s in brief moments like these where Teddy wishes he has siblings— _real siblings_ , not ones he has adopted from hanging around too much. 

“Yeah course. Plus, y’know, things like this are meant to strengthen looks too y’know, Al. So I’m going to be even more attractive.” 

Albus shakes his head, offering Teddy another bean that he turns down, pretending he’s far more interested in the magical socks in his hands. He watches the Quidditch player zoom around from the toes to the ankle, trying to rid himself of his disappointment because he loves Lily likes his own sister, and he sorta loves Albus like a brother, but he’s never really seen James as a brother. Which he’s grateful for, obviously, but also weirded out by, because did he always like James or did he just not seem… brotherly? He doesn’t know.

Like a lot of things that kept occurring recently. 

“Will he actually get more attractive, Teddy? Because I don’t think I can cope if he takes any longer in the bathroom. He spends far too much time in there already... _admiring_ himself.”

Teddy laughs to himself both sensing and seeing James flush with embarrassment. It lasts for barely a second, but it’s enough for Teddy to realise he feels a lot of James’ feelings. He wonders if he’s become a human mood ring for James Sirius Potter. Will the mystery of their new relationship be taken away because he can read him? Teddy hopes not, sometimes it doesn’t do well to know everything, he’s learnt that the hard way. 

“ _This isn’t my fault_ ,” Harry shouts from beneath them, cutting through the air and their conversation as the room silences, “ _I had work too, Gin! Plus they aren’t little kids anymore, they’re grown men who date, and...well, I’m trying my bloody best_.”

James moves closer to Teddy, his hand smoothing under his jacket along the back of his t-shirt, and Teddy tries not to curl into him—like how they were when they were alone. Even if it is only Albus who might witness something, it’s still one person than they wanted to know, and they were strict that no one could know yet. No one. 

Neither of them wants to hurt anyone, and they could do if people find out what they are before even the two of them do. 

Albus snorts as he shoves the bag of popcorn into James’ chest and strides to the door, either oblivious to James’ hand vanishing or not caring,. “Well shit, if dad shouts then you know shit is going the fuck down.” 

Teddy has to agree, but his focus is entirely on James’ wandering hand instead of speaking. Because the hand—the one spreading up under his t-shirt, ready to brush skin—is like a cooling charm, spreading over the fiery itch that their distance has caused. He didn’t realise how much he craved James’ touch until now. And Teddy knows it’s far more than he usually would, and he hopes it isn’t the bond because if it is he’s not sure how he’s going to cope.

Albus lingers as Ginny shouts even louder than Harry, the three of them hearing Harry’s response as clear as if he is in the room, “This doesn’t change too much, they’re already inseparable, have been since James finished Hogwarts. Least this happens to two best friends rather than two random people” 

“Yeah,” Albus laughs, throwing his head back. “The best of friends you too, almost _too_ best, if you get me.” 

Teddy doesn’t miss the narrowed expression Albus gives him, and for a split second, Teddy feels a spreading panic that grows from his feet, ready to strangle him. Then James throws the bag of popcorn at Albus’ head, and the moment is broken.

* * *

Teddy doesn’t know where to look. 

He wants to look at James, trace the freckles around his eyes like he usually does, but finds that even meeting close to James’ eyes makes his stomach knot uncontrollably. He is usually much better at hiding his emotions, but now James is linked to him and vice-versa, Teddy can’t be sure he is that good of an actor. He also isn’t sure what emotions are his and what are James’, the two of them realising as the hour’s tick on how strong their bond is becoming. 

They decide—or _James_ decides—to turn it into a game and test how far they can stand apart, both of them taking one side of James’ bed as they pack the remainder of his things. 

He isn’t sure why he offered his flat, it’s hardly big or brilliant, but Teddy doesn’t fancy living back in the Potter house as he tries to navigate— _and hide_ —his feelings and relationship with James. The two of them have barely had any form of conversation over what they were, they had mainly spent the time figuring out their favourite parts of one another's bodies, not that Teddy is now complaining—he isn’t. _Not one bit._

“You sure you want me to help you pack?” Teddy asks, holding up a rather short pair of shorts he can vividly recall James being in only a month or so ago. 

They are a soft pink, and they cut into his muscular thighs—the ones he’s gained from all the running and Quidditch James had done—and they cup his arse like only a pair of well-fitting jeans can. All of James’ clothes fit him ridiculously well, when Teddy thinks about it, and he wonders if James has them all magically tailored. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Teddy shrugs, attempting to seem as nonchalant as James is being about, well, everything. “It’s personal, isn’t it. Packing for someone, seeing their... _unmentionables_.” 

James sniggers. “Don’t be a dick, I want you here. Plus, what else would you rather do? You have to stick to me like glue. Practically be...on top of me?”

Giving him a sharp look, Teddy clears his throat. “Don’t.” 

James holds his hands up innocently. “I did no such thing, _Professor_ Lupin.”

He shudders, from both arousal and embarrassment. “That was my father, not me.”

“Bet you could teach me a few things though,” James flirts. 

Teddy’s eyes survey James’ sharp jawline, the piercingly darkening look he is giving him, and looks away with a nervous grunt. The sunlight is casting over the shorts, the short ones that have been in his hands, where James’ arse has been and something in Teddy’s chest tightens before it strums, like someone is playing the tangled ribbons that connect them. 

“You should stop,” Teddy says as his cheeks flush, a warmth spreading through his stomach. “It will be bad if you don’t.”

James arches his brow smugly as he snatches and held up the pair of pink shorts. “Want me to model these?”

Teddy shakes his head, fakely attempting to show he’s unfazed. “No. _Not really_.”

“Liar.” James throws them at his face, and for a second Teddy feels his entire body on fire, burning bright and powerful—far stronger than he has ever known it. His need, his want, is all far bigger than he has ever felt, for anyone, _never mind_ James. “Your hair is _liar-liar-red_ , Ted. So, do you want me to model these, or anything in particular?”

Teddy looks down, staring at the already paired socks, needing something to busy his hands with as his body aches—begging to move closer to James, and he hopes it isn’t the bond. He wants it to be the strength of his feelings for James and not some freak-accidental bond. It’s what is worrying him more than anything, he wants nothing to change, nothing to become heightened. He wants to know what he feels is what he feels in case everything falls apart when it's all undone.

“We should pack,” Teddy mutters, not wanting to meet those eyes—the ones that could get him to sin over and over again without a single care. 

James sighs heavily, but Teddy knows there is no intent behind it, it is just a very James thing to do. “Fine, Lupin. Why didn’t the toilet paper cross the road?” 

Lifting his head quickly, Teddy tilts it to the side as he smiles. 

“It got stuck in the crack,” James says with a straight face. It lasts for only a second before he bursts into laughter, but the face sets Teddy off before the joke really lands. 

Teddy, still grinning, hands James a shirt he rather loves. It’s navy, mid-length-sleeve and he remembers James wearing it the first night he took him to see a band play in central London. 

“We’re gonna be alright, aren’t we?” Teddy asks. 

James’ face blanks, his eyes darting away as a nervous pool begins to spread from Teddy’s head down to his toes. 

“We were friends before this, Ted. We will always be the best of friends, that hasn’t changed even if I want to…” James looks at his bedroom door over his shoulder, before lowering his voice, “fuck you senseless—”

“—Jamie—” Teddy hisses. 

“We’ll be fine, as long as we y’know, do everything together. Like shower, sleep, and eat?” 

Teddy smirks, handing James a shoulder to put in the bag in front of him. “We were meant to take it slow.”

“The universe wants what the universe wants, Ted. Can’t argue with fate,” James argues with a knowing, and ridiculous grin. “Or apparently cursed objects that live in your grandma’s house. Either way. Fuck the universe.”

Shaking his head, Teddy repeats the same under his breath. “Fuck the universe, indeed.”

* * *

James doesn’t want to admit it, but it feels weird being at Teddy’s place under these circumstances. 

It would settle his worries if he felt he could ask if Teddy wants him here, but he doesn’t want to sound needy. Not that it makes a difference if he does or doesn’t, they’re still bonded, and they would still need to be together. Which makes the question sort of moot, so James doesn’t ask, and instead pulls at the skin on his lip, feeling Teddy’s eyes brush over him periodically. 

It niggles at him that he likes it, the looks, not the biting off his lips. He would also usually make a smart comment, but he’s struggling to think of one and it’s pecking away at his confidence as he stands awkwardly a foot away from Teddy—the most they can be a part from—who is wringing his hands in and out as he stares around his home. 

He wants to ask if Teddy’s feels awkward too, but he doesn’t really need too, he feels it. It’s thickening in the room, surrounding them and trapping them within the walls James usually feels nothing but comfort in, but now, it feels forced. 

Worst of all, and a rather new development in the bond, he can now hear fragments—not full sentences—of Teddy’s thoughts, and it frightens James a little more than he cares to admit. Because if he can hear Teddy, there’s a good chance Teddy can hear him, and the James in his head is not the James that everyone knows. 

Because James is a liar. 

James isn’t confident or cocky, James fakes it until he makes it every single day because how can you be truly cocky when your dad is who your dad is. Never mind your mum is who your mum is. 

“I liked you for a while, y’know?” 

It isn’t his intention, but James snaps his head up so quickly his neck cracks, his brow shooting up his forehead so violently it’s a shock it doesn’t relocate to his scalp. 

Teddy clears his throat, swinging his arms forward as his hands clap together before swinging back. His awkward dance—the _I’m-fine-shuffle_ as Lily has always called it. James has always smirked when he watched him do it, wanting desperately to know what secret it was Teddy was keeping, but now, with things how they were, James just feels a flush of nervousness and giddiness. He doesn’t know how much of that is Teddy, but then, he doesn’t know much about himself anymore either. 

“I mean...Jamie, you’re attractive as _fuck_. But your humour is like nothing else.” Teddy half-smiles, the tip of his hair turning a soft pink. “I don’t want you to think this changes _anything_ , it’s just...I can, y’know, feel your feelings too.” 

James has suspected as much, but it still surprises him to hear. “Oh. _Right_.” 

Teddy awkwardly brushes a hand over the back of his head, turning each strand his fingers made contact with into a softer blue. “I just want to say, I guess, with _us_ being so...well, new.” 

James nods, finding himself unable to stop even if he wants too. He feels like that Muggle novelty toy he got when they visited the London Eye, where the British bulldog nods and nods as you tap its head. “Yeah, I get it, don’t worry. Honest.” He holds the strap of his bag a little tighter. “Where should I...pop my things?” 

“In the bedroom?” 

Shrugging, a stressed expression on his face James proceeds to nod again. “Yeah, the _bedroom_ , makes sense, totally.” 

Teddy begins to smirk, scrunching his nose in that ridiculously attractive way he always seems to do. Because not many people can pull off a nose scrunch, but Teddy always does. It bubbles a feeling inside of him that makes James want to throw his bag to the floor and close the gap between them, pressing his body against Teddy’s until his hand is clasping his chin and his tongue is tracing his lips. 

He wants to...well…

James does want to push Teddy down and tear the material between them from their bodies. It’s what he _really_ really wants to do. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to risk stepping over the line. They haven’t...gone that far since the first night, where they agreed after the second or third time that they’d wait. Pace things out. James isn’t sure if it still stands because the way they agreed to the pact was by having sex in the shower, and he realises how misleading the entire relationship is. 

It has always been sort of misleading. Never quite what others have with their friends. 

James is pretty sure Teddy flirted with him before they kissed, and James is sure he’s given bedroom eyes more times than is probably acceptable. But now, things should be black and white, but they aren’t even grey, and he’s not sure what they’re protecting. If it’s family, he’s sure Lily knows as well as Albus, and now his dad knows. If it’s their friendship, the one that’s been a constant, like a rock, then James is sure that will be fine too. Teddy was the first person he had blurted his preferences out too, that he liked both boys and girls, but he also didn’t care if _they_ were boys and girls, and here Teddy still was. 

Teddy, being Teddy, said everything James needed to hear and was the exact person he needed—like he always is, so James isn’t actually sure what the fuck is going on. Or why he isn’t fucking him right now. Because he wants too. 

He’s sure he does. 

“What?” Teddy asks, frowning teasingly. 

Rolling his eyes, James smirks. “You scrunching your nose up. You know what you’re doing, I know you can feel it.” 

Coyly shrugging, Teddy wiggles his lips. “Y’know I want nothing more than to rip your clothes off, right? I can hear you as well—well I can hear you going _fuck him, fuck him_. So either you want me or you’re mad at me.” 

James doesn’t flush with embarrassment. Instead, he stares even more intensely at Teddy, saying everything with his eyes because the itch inside of him is growing. It’s worsening. Quicker. He’s sure it will fill him entirely soon, the itch that only Teddy can scratch. 

“But…” 

_Of course, there’s a but,_ James thinks as he sighs with annoyance. 

“When I do, Jamie, I want it to be because my entire body wants me too, not because my body and your body have somehow conjoined together in some freaky bond.” 

James’ eyes go wide. “Is that what you think...are we like, merging horny- _ness_?”

Teddy shrugs. “No idea. Could be. Plus, there’s the other thing that your dad could burst through the Floo at any moment, and, well...we said we’d take our time with them. With the... _family_.” 

A pang occurs in his chest, James feels it, as though he’s just taken an _Expelliarmus_ spell. It hit something hard and vibrates through him, and he’s sure it’s doing the same to Teddy, but he isn’t sure who has created it. 

“How close do we have to be, d’ya think?” James asks, wanting to run his hands over Teddy’s arm as it begins to tingle more prominently. 

Teddy steps closer, and a warmth spread over James. 

“Probably a little bit closer,” Teddy says in a whisper, a nervous flicker behind his eyes. 

James raises the corner of his lips. “I think skin to skin would be more beneficial too, don’t you?” 

The colour of Teddy’s hair makes James fill with glee, he quite likes the effect he has on him, even more so with the bond.

* * *

The thing that bothers Teddy, more than the fact that he can’t tell his own thoughts from James’ muffled, awkward ones, is that he wants to touch James, but feels like he can’t. He suspects it’s why he feels so awkward, following him through the bedroom doorway as he watches him remove all the things from his bag they had packed together. Including those _freaking_ shorts. 

He wants to take his hand, run his fingers until they lock together, and brush his lips against James. Teddy, however, is worried. 

If he gives in, he’ll strengthen the bond. He _knows_ it, he remembers reading it about it when he had a sick hunger for finding out whether his dad loving his mum was real or purely werewolf behaviour. If he strengthens the bond, they’ll never be free from one another, and Teddy doesn’t want to be, but he does want a choice in it. 

He also wants James to have a choice in it. 

Teddy _needs_ them to have a choice in it. 

“Whatcha thinking there, Teddy-bear?” James asks with a knowing smirk and an additional twirl to his voice. He watched Teddy over his shoulder, gaze darkening. “Y’know I can sense you too, _right_?” 

_He bends over_. The idiot bends over, wiggling his hips from side to side, and Teddy is adamant that James already knows what he’s thinking. Because why else would he be taunting him? Why? 

Teddy doesn’t blush, he tries his damnedest not too anyways. He’s been training for years at it because he didn’t want anyone to see him red-faced when James did his shirtless-morning-walk. 

“You can be a right dickhead.” 

James laughs, coming up to a standing position as he pulls out a miniature photo frame containing a moving photo. He fumbles in his pocket, tapping various parts of his jeans before he pulls out his wand, maximising the photo frame so Teddy can see it is a photo of the two of them. Together. Smiling and laughing, and it makes warmth blossom in Teddy’s chest. 

“It’s my favourite. Took it away with me to camp.” 

Teddy frowns, a dopey smile passing over his face. Because he remembers James going away for six weeks to a Quidditch camp, and Teddy remembers missing James more than he ever had before. Even with a girl named Amelia to distract him. 

He had thought of James daily, he just hadn’t suspected James thought of him.

“ _You-you_ did?” 

James shrugs lightheartedly, feigning a lack of unbotheredness only he could—a trademark James Potter signature move—and although Teddy knows there is so much more under the surface, he doesn’t push. 

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” Although, Teddy knows that isn’t true at all. “Look, do me a favour and be _chill, alright_?” James asks with a playful grin. “We are dating, yeah? You shouldn’t know these things about me. You’re meant to learn them... _slowly_.” 

Teddy folds his arms. “Why did you bring it when you have me here anyway?” 

Face blanking, James twists his mouth from side to side, and Teddy feels a wave of guilt he finds hard to stand with. His head feels overcome, a dizziness casting over him as though someone is burdening him with a spell, and his hand grips the wooden door frame until his fingers feel close to falling off. 

“ _Teddy_?” 

James calls his name sharply, he can hear it, it’s worried and full of anguish, but it’s James’ hand grasping his arm that pulls him back from the brink of fainting, and Teddy finds he stabilises immediately. Almost easily. 

He blinks. Taking a deep breath as something inside of him burns a little more. “Sorry, I just went a _bit_ dizzy.” 

Instinctively, and thankfully, James places his palm on Teddy’s cheek, and both of their breathes come more easily and way more relaxed. A link, something knotting between them, twists in a mess before suddenly straightening. Teddy is almost sure he can see it, a glowing thread that dances in James’ eyes, bobbing as it floats behind the golden speckles dancing in his brown eyes. 

“You okay now?” James asks in a concerning whisper. 

Teddy goes to speak, opening his mouth only to find words are not able to come. He is calm, so impossibly calm, even in the current circumstances, so much so that he smiles. He doesn’t know why. But it feels right. Like James does; James feels so right it’s the only thing that makes sense.

It’s why he leans forward. It’s why he’s brushing his lips over James’ as a wave of warmth and peace drowns them, soaking them in it for the entire time their lips brush together. It feels right. 

They feel right. 

Everything in the world feels right, and Teddy knows it’s partly the bond making it feel so, but he doesn’t care, especially when everything _has not_ felt this right in such a long while. 

For a moment, while their lips are together, Teddy isn’t an orphan with a deceased guardian who was formerly his grandma as well. Teddy isn’t the son of a metamorphmagus superstar-Auror—he isn’t following in the footsteps of—or the son of a werewolf. He’s Teddy who is kissing James, who isn’t a Potter and who isn’t his God-brother. 

They’re just… kissing. And it’s just _right_. 

He feels the room glow, a golden tingle touching every corner as they lift from the ground—or so it feels. And even when their lips break apart, Teddy feels like he’s invincible, and he knows that is because of James, not the bond, not anyone else, just James. 

“Wow,” James whispers, and Teddy nods in agreement, having to look down to ensure they are on the ground. “You think it’s.. _.heightened_ cause of the, y’know? Or it’s because that’s us... _together_.” 

Teddy sniggers turning his head to kiss James’ palm as he watches his shudder with a smile. “I’d like to say the latter, but I do think it’s the former mixed with the latter.” 

“Course,” James says with a roll of his eyes. “Couldn’t be the latter could it, that would be too easy for life.” Teddy has to agree, dropping his head as a smidge of guilt begins to near him, only for James to nudge him, bringing him back from loathing. “Wanna order food and co-op something? Murdering a few rebel scum will sort us out.” 

Teddy kissed his palm again. “Sounds like a date, Potter.” 

“Ugh, don’t make it weird, _boyfriend_ ,” James teases as he brushes past him, taking his hand and leading him to the front room. “Remember, we’ve got to stay extra close.” 

“Oh the horror,” Teddy bites back, “not that I want space or anything.”

* * *

Teddy finds that Harry doesn’t come round the next morning, and he’s unsure if it’s a good thing or not. 

For one, James surprises Teddy by pinning him down into the mattress, flashing his brown orbs, and forcing him to succumb to some _morning fun_. Teddy doesn’t hate waking up this way, but he hates the guilt-pit he creates for himself when he becomes unsure if he is _James_ -James or _Bond_ -James. 

When he thinks about it too much, he laughs and then he feels guilty for laughing because it’s serious. Then he laughs more. 

Stuck between, ‘Bond. James Bond’ and _serious_ James Sirius thoughts make Teddy feel silly, guilty, and many other emotions he can’t comprehend post-orgasm.

The second thing is that the two of them haven’t found a _comfortable_ way to use the bathroom. While previously it had been fine they both needed to empty their bladders, the other toilet behaviour was a strict violation of the _‘taking it slow’_ rule. Teddy drew the line at being in the bathroom while James _dropped the kids at the pool,_ but when the bond nearly caused them both to faint, he found standing in the bathtub beside him with silencing and vision-reducing charms in place the only measure. Teddy still knew what was happening, he found it hard to look at James for a solid thirty minutes after. 

The third and final thing, which Harry could have prevented if he had turned up, was that they began bickering. Teddy has mile-a-minute thoughts that clashed with James’ docile, rather laid-back ones and their minds quickly became full. Teddy, admittedly, didn’t mean to snap, and he knew James didn’t mean to bite back, but when they began arguing over what was going on top of their pancakes, Teddy began to worry, and James began to panic, and the two of them stood extremely close to one another, frantic that they were already beginning to hate one another. 

Which Teddy knew he wasn’t, but he couldn’t silence the doubts in James mind, and vice-versa. 

“So…” James says, rubbing his ridiculously fluffy hair that Teddy just wants to bury his hands in. “We’re fighting. Over pancakes.” 

Teddy swallows. “I think the bond just makes things...more intense.” 

“It makes a lot of things intense.” 

Teddy didn’t want to say _too right,_ absently thinking about the fact he had seen the sun, stars, and planets all at once this morning. Instead, he awkwardly hands James the chocolate chips, the ones he wants on his, that Teddy wanted nowhere near his own. 

“We can beat this though,” Teddy adds. “We just have to...compromise, try and ignore the burning anger that swells inside of us. Y’know, be a functioning couple.” 

James smirks, taking the chips as he brushes his hair back from his eyes, letting the morning sun dance over his freckles. The same freckles Teddy wants to trace with the pad of his index finger, committing all of them to memory for the thousandth time since he realised they were there. 

“You’re looking at me.” 

Teddy smirks, placing his hand on his hip, hoping he was as attractive in person as he was in his head. “And if I am?” 

James scrunches his face for a second, a second too long in Teddy’s opinion, before throwing the chips on the side. Teddy’s focus is on the tiny chocolates erupting out of the tub, so focused in fact he doesn’t notice James striding to close the already small gap, and crashing his lips against his. It’s hungry, the kiss, not as cautious and lazy as it was this morning. It’s controlling and pent-up, its teeth against lips and moans forced out of mouths, it’s... _fucking awesome_. 

He doesn’t want to ruin it, but he’s Teddy—overthinking former-Head Boy who likes rules, to a degree, and understanding. He’s a Hufflepuff; he thinks and he’s in touch with his feelings, while also not giving a fuck for consequences, but right now, he is, and it’s different and he pulls away, eyes brazen with lust and heart hammering with adrenaline. 

“So, we fight and then we kiss? Yeah?” Teddy asks, although he’s not sure because he’d much rather kiss than talk, but here he is, talking instead of kissing. 

James shrugs. “Yeah?” 

“Okay,” Teddy shrugs with a smile, grasping the back of James’ head as he brings his lips to his, their bodies lighting up, their bond vibrating with joy and need. 

It’s too happy, it practically hums. It sits in the back of their heads, joining them, predicting one another’s moves but it’s so distracting, neither of them notices the pair of eyes on them, not-shocked or surprised to find them in this embrace.

“Oh good, you haven’t killed one another,” Harry says, cutting through the moment as James throws Teddy back, forcing his back to meet the counter harshly, “or is starving one from air classed as murder, hmm?” Harry taps his chin as all the colour drains from Teddy. 

From his hair. 

His face. 

Even his bloody eyes, and he’s sure he’s grey. He’ll be forever grey. 

“I’ll have to check,” Harry smiles wickedly. “Good morning boys, how are we?” 

Teddy wants the ground to swallow him up, and he’s sure he’s alone in this feeling until he hears James—not physically, but in his mind—mutter a real, formed sentence, with a voice and all. He’s taken back, shocked, and he’s sure James realises this when he stares at him with his eyes wide and the similar colour drained expression Teddy is sure he’s feeling. 

“Y’alright there?” Harry asks. 

He only shakes his head, too afraid to take his eyes from James’. “I think we can hear one another now, Harry. So, probably not.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything, but the bag in his hand crashes to the floor, and neither of the three of them cares if the contents have split against the carpet.

* * *

James finds his dad not leaving much worse than he expects. The fact his dad hasn’t stopped pacing is also applying a certain amount of stress, but he tries not to highlight this, especially when Teddy is gnawing intently on his lip. He hates how much he likes watching Teddy bite down, moving the pink lip between his overly white teeth. Especially in times like these. 

James wishes his emotions would get a grip—and his hormones. 

He knows this is bad. He knows his dad walking in on them, in the throes of something neither of them would have stopped either, will force a change in the family dynamic forever. It will. 

For one, Teddy won’t be invited round to just _‘hang out’_ because now the family will know he’s James’ boyfriend. They’ll look at him differently, they’ll look at James differently. 

They may even think Teddy planned all of this—waiting until James became _old enough_ , as if that can ever be the case. They may wonder if Teddy has always liked James, even when things would have been frowned upon; wondering if Teddy tried a move on James at one of their summer sleepovers, when Teddy wasn’t Head Boy and James was still a student. 

It won’t matter if James denies all of it, the seed has already been planted and it will grow, spreading through their minds like a forest, planting trees with disgusting ideas—ones that will never die. 

James really doesn’t want anyone to hate Teddy. 

Especially when he thinks he loves him. 

They’re all irrational fears that keep running round and around his head. James can’t silence them, no matter if he thinks of lips on his neck or Quidditch players who play beater, he can’t stop them all from circling. 

He’s desperate to pull at his fringe, tug it until it hurts and his brain silences when he realises it’s not _his_ thought. It doesn’t even sound like his brain-voice. 

“Teddy,” James sighs, lowering his hand slowly from his hair to his lap as he watches Teddy’s cheeks burn red. “They… they don’t, _they won’t_.” 

His dad halts by the window that overlooks the poorly constructed car park for the rest of the building's inhabitants. 

James remembers the arguments Teddy had with his dad over living here, in a building without magic. It didn’t matter what Teddy thought, Harry James Potter couldn’t risk his god-son being murdered and becoming a London statistic. It didn’t matter to James’ parents that Teddy is a _bloody_ fantastic wizard. They just didn’t want to see him here, in a place away from them. 

And yet, here they both are. 

“Won’t _what_?” His dad asks, his face softening as though he has already figured out what Teddy is concerned about. 

Teddy dips his head, and James feels the familiar tug of Teddy needing him at his side, but he doesn’t move. Not because he doesn’t want too, but he won’t help cover this up. He needs to hear this as much as he needs Teddy to just say it because they need to function, they need to compromise. 

Sighing, Teddy swallows before opening his mouth. “I don’t want you to hate me… for, well, being with James.” 

Of _course_ , his dad looks surprised, but James doesn’t think he actually is. He’s smart, too smart at times, and James knows that his dad knows them all better than he would ever admit. 

“You’re… _together_?” Harry asks, and James snorts. 

He can’t help it. Although, he also doesn’t _try_ hard to hold it in.

His dad shoots him a look, only one a dad can give. “Don’t be your mother.” 

James smirks. “Yes, _dad_ , we’re together. And before you go off on one, it was before the bond.” 

He hears Teddy scream, it sounds far away, but James knows what it is. Then, out of nowhere, a hoard of thoughts assault James’ mind and he clasps his hands to his head, hearing only occasional mutters as they appear. 

_He’ll think I’ve taken advantage. I’m too old, of course, I am. Harry will think I've failed him. I have failed. I’m a failure. I’m an old failure who took advantage…_

James lets his mouth fall open, tilting his head as he meets the frightening look spreading out over Teddy’s face, and the voices suddenly silence, and the hammering of thoughts seems to seize, and James is left with the swirling unknown and crippling doubt. 

“You should have told me.” 

It’s all his dad says, and it annoys him all over again. More than it did before in his room, and even more than James is sure he can ever feel. It fills him, almost to the brim, and he’s waiting, cracking his fingers beside him as he wants to run and shout. He’s thankful his wand is in the kitchen, and Teddy had moved them to the front room, because he’s not sure what he would have done, and it frightens him. 

All of this frightens him. 

He doesn’t want to hear Teddy’s doubts about James being too young, because that’s definitely what this is all about. He doesn’t want to think about the fact his family could think Teddy took advantage because even though James is strong and unafraid, they won’t unthink it. Not ever. 

“You should have told me,” Harry repeats, and James shoots him a glare he knows he’s borrowed from his mother, “because I could have told the people working on your case. It will be a factor, everything is heightened in a bond, it’s meant to… _better_ your understanding of one another. Help facilitate, y’know, relationships and what not.” 

The anger dissolves—as if it was never even there—and James stares at his hands, finding them shaking. He doesn’t know why, and a new layer of fear floods over him, and he looks up at his dad, with fear and tears in his eyes. 

“Dad? I…” 

Teddy stands up, moving closer and placing his hand to his cheek—the same way James’ had done for him. “We’re scared, Harry. Both of us. The good is great, the bad is terrifying. Do you wanna hear Ginny’s thoughts? I assure you, even if you constantly wish you could, you don’t. Alright?” 

James wants to crumble, but he knows he can’t, and he glares that thought over to his dad who receives the message as if he too was in their minds. 

“Hold tight boys. Alright? Fucking hell, next time, just don’t touch things.” Harry runs a hand through his hair, and James sees Teddy briefly smile. He wonders if it’s because he does the same thing, having picked it up from his dad. “Give me a minute, or an hour, or… _fucking_ , bloody several, I’ll fix this.” 

James believes his dad—like he always does—and he looks to Teddy to offer a smile, only to find him paler than he’s ever seen with greying hair.

* * *

James navigates his way around the tense air as best as he humanly can, but he knows he’s making everything worse. Teddy has been silent since his dad left, and James desperately wants to ask why, but finds himself struggling to find the words. 

Each time he thinks he makes a breakthrough, one of them needs the bathroom and the long-winded way of them respecting one another’s boundaries while simultaneously relieving themselves begins. James much prefers this to showering—not that he hates showing with Teddy, quite the opposite--but if he sees Teddy naked or in fewer clothes than expects, James feels the need to jump on him. 

He suspects it’s the bond _heightening_ things, but James also considers that he’s just an animal. 

The tension continues to thicken for several hours, each one subtly snapping at the other when they speak, and James can feel the cracks growing—as well as see them. He dislikes it; he hates seeing Teddy so standoffish, and he knows he’s the only one who can bridge them back together. Because Teddy isn’t confrontational, he’s shy and more of a planner, James is simply a doer. 

“You’re keeping something from me.” 

It’s about as direct as James can be without being rude. He’s confident with so many things—even with so many people—but there’s something about Teddy that has him knotted. It’s been ever since the night at the bar, with the low-lighting and confessions that had bubbles building in his stomach. 

James has lost his cool, he is awkward and nervous—two things he _never, ever_ is. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, he knows that with all his heart, and while it’s stupid to think of forever at a time like this, James is and he can’t stop himself. 

Even if everything is worsening over their time together in the flat, the prickling sensations running over his scalp and the fact, that when attempted, leaving the house made them both come up in hives. Living together would be difficult for anyone who wasn’t able to leave. Yes, it had been a full day in the flat, but it is also a full day of being latched to one another’s side, knowing they can’t escape and everything is only bringing them closer, and closer together. 

James doesn’t like close. It’s why he enjoys Quidditch, he loves the wind through his hair and freedom to explore. He feels somewhat claustrophobic here, trapped beside someone he would usually kill to be with. It’s not anything to do with Teddy, James knows this deep down. He knows he’s never liked not having his freedom. He remembers when he was little and he caught a flu-bug from one of his cousins. He couldn’t leave his room never mind go outside, and in the hour of finding this information he had screamed and cried until he was sick. He hates feeling trapped, and he hates the knowledge that he currently feels like that about being stuck to Teddy. 

Because truthfully he doesn’t feel trapped with Teddy, he feels accepted and free to be who he wants to be. To Teddy he’s just Jamie, he’s not James Potter. He’s not a Potter. 

He’s just a man. 

Right now it feels like it does with others though. It feels like there’s a boggart in the room, and instead of stealing some furniture, it’s feasting on secrets between them. James tires of it quickly with anyone he meets, hating the prickling sensation, but with Teddy who worries and worries, it only makes James feel worse. He’s not meant to feel this way about Teddy, he’s meant to be happy. 

So why isn’t he happy?

Why does he want his dad to come back and undo this carnage, possibly risking the end of whatever they can be? 

Because Teddy can barely look at him, and James can hear the quiet whispers of Teddy’s mind in overdrive. He knows they aren’t positive thoughts, he’s not the smartest all of the time, but James knows that for a fact. 

As they sit down for food, the sight of chips and chicken burgers in front of him—James’ favourite meal—combined with the sun setting on another day, James decides to find some Gryffindor courage. He has too. He has to fight and sort this out. 

Even if it ends in a disaster. 

One he caused. 

“What are you hiding from me?” 

It’s direct, and it presents a situation that Teddy can’t lie though. Not that Teddy can lie, he can’t, and James feels a little sick that he’s stuck his boyfriend in that situation. Boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. Boyfriend. 

He smiles as the word bounces around his head, and he hopes the word doesn’t become _ex_ -boyfriend. 

James knows he _should_ be more understanding, he knows this somehow because he knows that Teddy is not like him. Teddy has been through a lot, the loss of parents, growing up without them, losing his gran months ago. James wonders if he can take it back, but Teddy places his fork down and he knows he can’t. 

Teddy rolls his palms together, attempting to focus on a mark on the carpet. “Jamie, can we—“

“Do you think I like tension?” James asks seemingly harsher than intended but he can’t change his tune because he’s anxious too. He’s fucking scared and he’s tired and drained. “Just be _honest,_ our lack of communication got us into this mess to begin with. You don’t have to let me in on everything, but there’s something between _us_ right now and it’s sorta bothering me.” 

“What?” 

James wants to stamp his foot, but he doesn’t. “If we had _talked_ before, we wouldn’t have needed a bloody game and half-a-bar full of liquid courage. This isn’t _ideal_ , I know, but fuck Ted, I can’t be the sensible one. It doesn’t suit me well. It’s like…it’s like Spider-Man wearing a cape, it doesn’t fucking go!”

Teddy averts his eyes again, taking a deep breath and the moment breaks James. He hates that Teddy can’t look at him, and he braces for the worst, because James isn’t like his dad. He isn’t lucky. He is unlucky, and things take far longer to sort for him than they ever did for his dad. 

“Look, you don’t need to wear a cape, I’m just a bit worried about, y’know, your dad. _We didn’t_ want anyone knowing.” 

He didn’t expect that. Actually, his dad is the last thing he expected Teddy to mention. “You’re worried about… _my dad_? You do know my dad isn’t bonded to us, it’s just us two. He actually has nothing to do with this equation.”

It’s rattled him. James feels a little shudder of anger course through his bones because Harry Potter is _his_ dad and he causes enough problems for him. He’s _expected_ to be this or that, when James wants to help make Muggle technology available in Wizarding homes. It’s genius—in James’ opinion—but not in his dad’s, or his mum’s, or even the bloody newspaper. 

And now, his dad is popping up causing a problem for Teddy. For them. Even though he didn’t even know that they were a _thing_ until hours ago. 

Teddy rubs his face as he lets out a loud sigh, and James finds himself unable to stop gritting his teeth. The sigh, the fact it’s to do with his dad, it eats away at him and throws more wood on the burning bonfire of anger he has for being a Potter. 

“And, I mean he isn’t your dad, so like, why would you be worried? Like, no offence meant, of course, but why are you so worked up about _my_ dad.” 

He blames the internal bonfire for the reason he won’t stop having verbal diarrhoea. James has always had that problem. 

Teddy groans even louder, dropping his hand between his bent knees as he glares at James. He wants to tell Teddy to wipe that glare off his face, but he doesn’t. On anyone else the look would have been terrifying, but on him, he just thinks it looks rather cute. Even if he can hear the spitting remarks in Teddy’s mind, the ones Teddy is pretending he isn’t thinking. 

“I mean that I’m worried that… _Christ_ , Jamie, I know you were scared of telling him about us, that’s why you didn’t want to earlier, and now he knows,” Teddy exclaims, his voice trembling. “How do you think that bodes for me? I’m not even his son for him to forgive. I’m a fake-son. Yes. That’s it, I’m a fake son, and you don’t have to forgive fake-sons. It isn’t part of the fake-son contract you get signed when you become a fake-father, he’s upset we kept this from him. And I, I should know better.” 

James scrunches his face up in both confusion and from the array of thoughts hammering at him. It isn’t helped by every emotion the two of them were feeling being mirrored, and a pang of guilt circled James’ stomach like it’s his own. It makes him feel sick, and his skin runs cold with a chill that makes him so uncomfortable he has to move, shake, do something to rid himself of it. It’s only then that James realises what Teddy is feeling, how Teddy has been acting according to the swirling guilt in his stomach every time James suggests they go to his house. 

“You’re worried my dad will hate you…”

Teddy looks at him, a softer expression, one that hides so much pain behind it that accompanies the quick shift in emotions, James knew he had paled too. “He’s not my dad, Jamie. I don’t have one. I have had Harry my entire life filling in where my grandma can’t…” Teddy shrugs, “I don’t want to disappoint him.” 

James swallows, and as he turns to look away, Teddy suddenly grasps at his arm, but James beat him to it. “You think he’ll be disappointed that you chose to be with me?” 

“No, Jamie. Christ! _No_.” 

James pulls himself from Teddy’s grip, standing up, needing to put some space between them even if it wouldn’t mean much. Even if it didn’t matter that he can’t go far without feeling a lulling emptiness; even if Teddy would still be figuratively attached to him unless he snaps himself away purposefully. 

“I mean I get it. I’m not the smartest, but I’m not stupid, Teddy. I do dumb shit, of course, but I thought you liked that—you said you liked my impulsive behaviour.” It’s unravelling, all of it, and he can’t stop it. Not a single spell, not even holding on can halt it. “I’m not what you want, am I?” 

Teddy’s brows knit closer, a thin line appearing as he frowns so deeply it split the softness of his usual appearance. “Jamie… _of_ course, you are.” 

“Then why are you worried you’ll disappoint him, I’m _his_ son?” 

“Because I’m not good enough for you. I may have been Head Boy. I may have done alright at school, but Jamie I’m not…I stay on the outer edges my entire life, not wanting too much attention—because Merlin I have enough with being the son of two dead parents.” He sighs, breathes, grasps himself to stop shaking, and it breaks James, more than he’s ever known he can feel. “I’m older than you. By a fair chunk. I have a shit job, at a shit Ministry that barely believes that werewolves are people. I have people who _stupidly_ think I’m a werewolf because my dad was one—my dad who was a professor and important in stopping the chuffing war. And you, you’re James Sirius Potter, you can be a captain of a Quidditch team, an Auror or anything you want to be. You can be anything. And you… you’re stuck with me? It doesn’t make sense.” 

James feels his chest tighten, and as his hand moves to soothe it, he realises it’s all Teddy—so fixed on wrestling with all the emotions he is keeping inside, he’s struggling to function. James can feel them now he’s discovered them and he hates them; they’re restless and unchained, and James isn't sure how Teddy has been able to walk around with a smile on his face, never mind get out of bed each morning. There’s so many of them, so many worried and feelings, it’s somewhat overwhelming. 

“And then, _on_ top of that, I’m the _godson_ of the _boy who lived_. And I’m _not_ his kid, but the responsibility, the title doesn’t fair any easier on my head. But then, to be the godson who abused his trust, to have muscled his way in and took his son? Like, _fuck_. I broke the family, Jamie. I took you as if you were mine.” 

James snorts, and it comes out far ruder than he means it too. “One, I’m not a fucking object. Two, no one left me out on the side for you to swipe like a thief in black and white. Three, I want _you_ as much as you want me. Four, fuck them. Five, double fuck them if they don’t understand.” He slides his hand over Teddy’s, a calming sensation spreading as soon as they touched, their bodies beating in sync. “Six, my favourite number—“

“I know,” Teddy smiles sheepishly. 

Smiling, James presses his forehead to Teddy’s, turning his eyes into one huge one. “I’d choose you every time, no matter what.” 

“You would?” 

“For someone so smart, you’re the stupidest man alive sometimes, Lupin. Yes. A million times yes. I don’t regret the poor-excuses I called relationships because they led me to you,” James whispers, his ears burning red. 

Teddy moves his mouth from one side to the other. “You can be really mature sometimes, Jamie.” 

He shrugged, a dopey smile spreading over his face. “I’m not sure I like it. You better take back your cape, it doesn’t suit me.” 

Teddy’s laugh rang out, and James isn't sure if he has ever heard anything as sweet and beautiful. 

“Anything else?” James asks, knowing full well there is so much more, but he isn’t getting any more even if he begs. 

Teddy shakes his head, and James lets a sigh escape his lips, hating the doubt that rolls around his mind, knowing full well it belongs to Teddy and not himself.

* * *

Teddy manages to sleep for a few hours. 

The feel of James soundly snoring soothes him, but the evening and the prospective morning weighs heavy on him. Teddy _needs_ to talk to someone—more specifically his Healer. 

He acquired one when he left Hogwarts, finding the blend into adult life harder than expected. Teddy had no idea he had been holding on to a lot of regrets until he began to talk, and he’s gone back ever since, once a month—right on cue—because he needs that hour or two. Teddy needs somewhere to talk where he’s more than someone’s boyfriend or more than someone’s godson; more than an orphan or an ever-changing lanky Hufflepuff. It’s an hour where Teddy can say he’s mad that his dad went to fight and his mum joined him; it’s an hour where he can cry about the fact he hates that he can look like his dad or his mum. 

It’s where Teddy can tell someone he’s in love with his best friend. 

It’s a place where he’ll get a congratulations when he shares with someone he has finally told James how he feels, especially when it’s been the topic of conversation so many times. 

It runs through his mind all night, the last session. He’s happy, elated even, but there’s so much shadowing of doubt that it would all go wrong, he has unravelled. Teddy hasn’t cried in therapy in a few months, but he cried at his last one. He thinks he cried because he was overwhelmed that Harry and Ginny would hate him, but he knows, in reality, he cried because he didn’t want James to come to realise how much better he is than Teddy. 

Especially when Teddy has wrestled with feelings for James for so long, and it seems James has just come to realise his own. 

He knows the next morning they’ll fight again. Teddy feels it in the ends of his hair and the tips of his fingers. He’s tired and cranky, which never bodes well, and right on queue, one blows up. Teddy can’t hide anywhere, having always hated confrontation because he’s one of the reasons they’re fighting. 

“You don’t think telling me you’re seeing a Healer is important?” James shouts, and Teddy isn’t sure how many times he can ask James not to yell. “Or was you just hoping that they’d stick their head through the fireplace when I wasn’t around?” 

Teddy doesn’t want to say that’s _exactly_ what he’d hoped for because he knows it would be foolish, even if honesty is always the best policy. His grandma had taught him that, saying lies always found a way to resurface—it took him years to realise he’s a human lie detector with his hair, having always thought he could lie. 

“Look, it’s personal—“

“Teddy! We’re _bonded!_ Wait–no–we are fucking dating,” James continues to shout, “that is something you tell your boyfriend!” 

Teddy wants to disagree because he’s never told anyone, not a boy, not a girl. He’s sure the only person who knows is Harry, and he made him promise not to tell anyone. It isn’t that he thinks of himself as weak, but he doesn’t fancy _everyone_ knowing he suffers from anxiety and self-deprivation that quickly turns into self-hating. He doesn’t need _anyone_ to have that power over him, and he even hates that Harry knows. 

Harry who Teddy has always looked up to because he’s handled far more and so much better than Teddy. 

“Or were you not going to tell me?” James asks.

He opens his mouth but realises he can’t lie. “No. I wasn’t.” 

It’s bad. It’s worse than bad. Teddy feels a fire erupt inside of his chest and he knows from how much he wants to run and hide that it’s James’ fire. Not his. He feels the blood pumping around his body as if it’s his own, and he hears odd hisses and spiteful sounding words in the back of his head, and Teddy wishes the bond could be lifted, hating how everything is coming undone. 

“You weren’t going to tell me that you’re seeing a Healer?” James asks again, and Teddy nibbles on his lips because there’s little else he can do. “Wow. Just...wow. Alright, I mean, woah, like you really—shit.” 

“Jamie—“

“No,” James says sharply, and it catches Teddy off guard and he knows that he’s made this all so much worse. “It’s fine, you have your business, I’ll have mine. I need to see Albus.” 

Teddy’s mouth remains open, willing words to find their way past his lips because it’s only been two days and things can’t have tumbled undone already. He can see the threads coming apart, and Teddy wants to go back in time and undo them ever being bonded, go back to when they snuck kisses and tried to grasp at one another’s skin whenever the chance presented itself. 

“Now?” 

The look Teddy receives makes him wish the ground would swallow him up. It’s empty, almost dead, and Teddy’s blood begins to bubble and his mind begins to think twice as fast as usual. 

“Yes, now,” James says as he rubs the front of his hair, the sun brushing over his freckles. The ones that Teddy wants to draw lines between. “I promised him.” 

Teddy suspects this is a lie, but doesn’t push. 

“I’ll grab you a jumper,” James mumbles, heading to his room—their room, the one they’re sharing. 

Of course, he grabs his favourite because James isn’t an arse like Teddy is. He wants to grab James and pull him close, tell him that he has recurring dreams of people leaving him and his heart runs a mile a minute when he’s doing something minimal. But he doesn’t, instead, he brushes the hair out of James’ eyes, and hopes it will be enough. 

It isn’t, that much is confirmed when James looks at him with pain in his eyes, and Teddy feels a wave of disappointment fall over his shoulders. He knows the feeling doesn’t belong to him. 

“Jamie, can we… are we?” 

James covers his wrists with his jumper, pulling the sleeve over his hands. “You tell me.” 

Teddy doesn’t understand relationships most of the time, he’s closed off, untrusting even though he’s a Hufflepuff. He suspects the worst, even if he’s not a _naturally_ negative person, but he knows enough to be able to tell that _you tell me_ is not a good sign. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell James, he does, _more_ than anything. He just doesn’t want things to change—more than they already have—and he can’t lose James, even if he feels he’s about too, but most of all, he doesn’t know how to say any of that. Teddy has no idea how to let someone in, all of his other relationships never needed that from him. 

“I don’t know how to be with you.” 

James frowns slowly, and Teddy hates it. He hates it more than them not being okay. 

“I mean… _Christ_ this is hard,” Teddy mumbles as he rubs his palms down his thighs. “I’m older, so I should be wiser, but I’m not Jamie, I’m really not.” 

“Okay?” James replies. 

And he knows he’s confused, because Teddy’s bloody confused, and he doesn’t know how to make sense of it all because he’s confused himself. He wants his Healer, he wants someone to write this down for him and help him explain to people—more specifically James—everything he keeps inside. It’s too much all of the time; it’s too much some of the time, and Teddy isn’t sure how he can keep a lid on it enough to explain. Especially when it hurts and it’s hard. It’s harder than anything because James is in his head, living there, connected to him, and he can’t let him see, he can’t. 

“I’m scared you’re going to leave because I’m old.” 

Instead, Teddy blurts it out. 

Not even the most logical thought, but the one bubbling too close to the surface; the one unable to be bottled for any longer. 

“I’m scared that me being older will force you to leave,” Teddy explains, letting a heavy sigh fall out of him. “Jamie, I’m older than you. And yes, right now I’m fine with drinking while playing video games and late nights, but one day I’m going to want early nights and hot chocolates.” 

James rolls the front curl around his finger. “You’re worried I don’t like hot chocolate? I _love_ hot chocolate, Teddy.” 

“No, ugh. I don’t… you’re young! You’re supposed to have fun and not think about kids and Ministry pensions and ring sizes or suits,” Teddy rambles, knowing he’s not really making much sense, but he can’t stop the words from spewing. 

They’re firing from his lips, punching at the man opposite him and poking holes into their relationship; feeding things into the two of them they hadn’t gotten close to discussing. Teddy hasn’t really thought about a future before, but in the last few days he has. He has because of James and his freckles being on their kids’ faces, and their personality being in one tiny person. He’s thought about it, and it terrifies him, and it’s why he needed the Healer, it’s why he needed an hour of dedicated time where he can just ramble and moan and… be honest. 

“Y-you want children?” 

“You don’t?” Teddy asks, shuffling his foot against the floor. “I mean, I don’t blame you for not knowing, at your age—“

James scoffs. “Don’t you _‘your age’_ me, Edward. You’re what, a few years older than me?” 

Teddy scrunches his eyes up. “You know how much older I am.” 

“You’re practically a grandpa,” James snarls bitterly as he rolls his eyes. “Look, maybe I haven’t thought about it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want that. I just… I like you and I think I could—“ 

It’s the worst moment.

It’s the worst possible moment ever. 

And yet it happens. 

“Hey, James,” Albus says with a whine, sticking his face through the fireplace, “C’mon, I haven’t got all day.” 

James sighs, looking from the fireplace back to Teddy. He knows it can’t be bad what he had been about to say, he knows that because James is a good person. 

He can’t stop the train of thoughts. 

_I could. I could. I could._

“Later?” James asks. 

Teddy nods, even if his head feels heavy. “Sure.”

* * *

“Why are you and Teddy fighting?”

James hates how Albus knows him, he also hates that for this conversation to happen, Albus has charmed Teddy to not hear. It feels risky, and while usually one for risks, James hates that they involve Teddy. 

Almost as though Teddy is off limits. Even though he is. Teddy is different, he feels different to James, and he doesn’t hate it, not like he feels he should. 

“We aren’t.” 

Albus gives him a knowing look. “C’mon, the fight is still littering the air like burnt pages from a book.” 

“You spend far too much time with Scorpius.” 

Albus shrugs. “Why are you fighting _JamJam_?” 

“Fuck, I hate that name, and it’s nothing, just, stupidness really. We…” 

James shoots a look at Albus’ bed, watching as Teddy’s eyes scan the comic book having no idea what he is missing out on. Teddy is so close, it makes talking about him and everything so much worse. 

“We—he’s hiding therapy from me. And I know it’s therapy because it’s the same bloody Healer that mum had to go to. The one who was there after Lily was born.” 

Albus shrugs, handing James his wand. “And? He’s seeing a therapist and wants to keep it to himself. In the Muggle world, there’s a thing called doctor-patient-confidentiality.” 

James stares at his brother, wanting so badly to throw the Xbox controller—the one he’s trying to charm to work with the system before sorting the system out—at his head. 

“Do I look like I care about that? Like, right now? Like he lied about the Healer and he lied about his _worries_ about dad.” 

Albus fakes a hurt look, and James shakes his head as he waves his wand over it—doing the exact same thing he had done to the console at Teddy’s. 

“I think I’m missing something,” Albus says in a drawn-out voice. 

He knows he has this one chance. If he doesn’t take it, he risks lying to his brother—the one person James hates lying too. The two of them, while not always close, had a mutual brotherly love that neither would admit to. They were, _after all_ , the two Potter boys, and when others picked on Albus, James would protect him, and when James got himself into a sticky situation, Albus would help cover it up. No questions asked. 

James knows he has to say something about Teddy. He knows it more than anything else. 

“OK, fine, I am trusting you with this. I’m dating him.” 

“You and Dad, gross.” 

James whacks Albus with the controller. “No, dork, Teddy and I.” 

“Obvi.” 

“You’re meant to be shell-shocked.” 

Albus sniggers. “Why?” 

“Because this is legit brand new information.” 

Albus shrugs, handing a cable to James that almost catches James unsuspectedly. “Um, if I’m honest I thought you two were doing the happy dance for ages.” He frowns, tilting his head. “Yeah, you’re right, I hang out with Scorp too much.” 

“You...what? No! I mean, I’d like to have been—but, no. Like this is _brand new_. Like, a month tops. If that. Well, two since we did the happy—no, I refuse.” 

Albus shudders. “I don’t want images, Jambo. Not one bit.” 

James half-smiles, placing the cable into the back of the console as he hesitates. “So you’re like, cool with, y’know, me and him?” 

Albus picks up the controller, turning it over before looking over James’ shoulder. “Honestly? I think you’re both good for one another. He’s a mess full of anxiety and hopelessness because he feels inadequate; you’re an overconfident ball-sack that is loud and really needs to use an inside voice more. You’re perfect. Plus, who cares what Albus thinks? Not Albus.” 

“Third person you is weird.” 

“Meh,” Albus shrugs as he drops the controller back on the desk, “I think _weird_ is one of my defining qualities. Now, set up my Xbox before Scorpius gets here, I promised to show him that game with the dragon.” 

James sniggers, connecting another cable to the back ready to plug into the plug socket he has installed—on the sly—a month ago. “Skyrim?” 

“Yeah, that.” Albus, while undoing the spell on Teddy, helps James with moving the desk. “Scorpius doesn’t think it’ll work. He’s been reading—which I tell him is dangerous—but he doesn’t think your _business_ will work in our house.” 

James arches his brow. “And what do you think?” 

He bends down, fusing the plug to the socket and lacing the magic with the electricity. James internally thanks Aunt Hermione for teaching him all about it and his Grandad for his interest in Muggles’ to begin with. 

“Meh, I’m a _see-it-to-believe-it_ kinda Potter.” 

Pressing the button on the tv, James smirks at the screen comes on, and stands up dramatically and slowly. “Alright. You see it, do you believe it?” 

“I love you, Jamie,” Albus breathes as he stares wide eye at the television. “And I am never leaving my room.” 

Teddy, thankfully, comes over and presses a kiss to James’ cheek—one for a second James doesn’t second guess or think about until he meets Albus’ smirk. 

“Teddy! Ew,” James fakes as Teddy rolls his eyes. 

“Albus knows, you told him five minutes ago,” Teddy smirks as he snatches the controller. “Albus isn’t good with charms.”

* * *

Teddy shouldn’t have let James get what he wants. He should have halted, stopped the removal of James’ own jumper from his skin, and he should have stopped James’ hand from travelling south of his belt. Teddy is even sure he should have pulled away when he moaned, low and guttural as James trailed kisses down Teddy’s exposed chest and abdomen. 

He shouldn’t have agreed to stay the night at the Potter’s, especially with Scorpius round and Lily in the room next to them. It doesn’t matter that Albus would let them know if anyone was coming, it doesn’t. 

If Teddy hasn’t stopped before, he knows he should have when James’ lips wrap themselves around his cock. Especially because between the building sexual tension, and the fact Teddy hasn’t been able to _relieve_ himself privately, neither of them can hear Ginny climbing the stairs or her opening the bedroom door or staring for a full second in sheer panic. 

“Holy _fucking_ , fuck, James! Wizarding wept, oh Merlin and the potions classroom,” Ginny screams, shielding her eyes before Albus darts in the room, controller in hand. 

“James, Mum is coming up the stairs.” 

Teddy internally hates James and his bright-idea for Muggle technology in wizarding houses. It broke Albus for one. 

Teddy wants the bed to swallow him whole. Or the floor. He isn’t choosy. James, however, doesn’t seem fazed, a cocky grin replacing his straight face as he rises awkwardly to stand. 

Thankfully he wipes his mouth before he turns to his family. “ _Yeah_ , thanks, Al. And Mum, heard of knocking?” 

If there is anyone Teddy knows shouldn’t be talked back too it is a pissed-off Ginny Potter. Her eyes harden to nails, her hair crackles, turning a fiery red that makes Teddy question if she is about to erupt into a bonfire, and her jaw tenses to the point of snapping. It’s the same thing that happens every time James pushes his luck—which is often. Teddy never expects the luck to be pushed with him involved. 

“Downstairs, _now_ , James Sirius Potter.” 

She spins on her heels, storming past Albus who sheepishly averts his eyes, before hammering her feet into the staircase reminiscent of Lily. 

Albus seems to have the same thought. “No wonder Lily sounds like a bloody hippogriff, she gets it from mum.” 

James’ lips curl into a smile, but he doesn’t laugh. “Give us a sec will you, Al?” 

Teddy is sweating, he is sure of it. He is pretty sure he has been sweating the entire time, but it isn’t until James meets his eyes does he begin to breathe again normally, allowing air to slowly fill his lungs. 

Ever since they sat down for food and Lily interrogated them over what they’d been up too—with a sheepish Harry beside her—Teddy has been a ball of nerves. He knows James has felt it, he must have, because Teddy can his heartbeat, calm and strong, unlike his own erratic and stressed one. He isn't sure how he anyone can be as calm as James, Teddy has never been so stressed in his life as he stuck his fork into his potatoes, least of all when James purposefully brushed against the truth while leaving out all the dirty, sexual parts. 

“It’ll be alright.” 

Teddy arches his brow. “Telling me or yourself?” 

James snorts. “You. I’m fine, I don’t care what they think.” 

He hopes it isn’t a dig, their conversation still lingering between them, but Teddy knows talking about it won’t make either of them feel better, not until their bond is broken. Not until they can talk freely without feeling so much all the damn time. 

Sighing, Teddy grasps for James’ jumper on the bed, his fingers brushing over the cotton before sliding it over his head. 

“Your hair is yellow,” James says with a frown. “And that’s my jumper.” 

“I think it’s from the...whole displaying thing,” Teddy awkwardly replied, slipping his arms through as he stood up to join James. “Random colours for surprised events, and all that. Your jumper will keep me calm, your aftershave, it’s soothing.” 

James doesn't reply, but his cheeks do glow a shade of pink Teddy has never seen before James presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. He mumbles about going downstairs, and while Teddy _wants_ to decline such an invite, he knows he shouldn’t leave James to his family alone and that he can’t leave even if Teddy physically wants too. 

The descent down the wooden staircase takes much longer than normal, and while he knows it’s purely a figment, Teddy does feel the need to visually check the house hasn’t got any bigger. 

The tension in the kitchen—where all the Potters seemed to have migrated too—is palpable. Teddy is sure his hair will begin vibrating at a frequency he won’t be able to control, and he wishes he had taken a t-shirt and not a jumper, fearful he won’t sweat through it. 

“James, Teddy, fancy a seat?” Harry greets, pointing to the two chairs seated side by side, rather specifically. 

Teddy does _not_ want to sit, and thankfully neither does James. 

“I think… we’ll stand,” James says, looking at Teddy to check. “Yeah, we are going to stand.” 

Harry nods awkwardly, leaning on the back of the chair. “A colleague can remove the bond.” 

Teddy’s eyes widen, and he can feel James’ heart thumping in his ears. “Seriously? That’s...when...Harry?” 

James heartbeat gets quicker, it thumps louder and louder in his ears until it’s all Teddy can hear. And he hates to wonder, hates to even think that James doesn’t want the bond to end. Because Teddy does, and he doesn’t want them to fight again. 

“Tomorrow, if you’re happy about that?” 

Teddy looks over at James and he wishes he can ask him in their head if he really wants it to end. If he wants them to end with it. But Teddy can’t, he feels resistance and finds silence where he usually hears James. 

It’s brief, and almost frightening how silent it is, but it’s there and it hurts. Teddy never cries in front of Harry, but he wants too. 

“Yeah,” James answers, and Teddy wants to sink to the floor in defeat. “It’ll be nice to… pee alone, and do things together, without feeling... _forced_.” 

Teddy lifts his head from his chest, cocking his brow because James doesn’t want them to end. He just wants them to be separate but together, and he’s not sure why he hasn’t thought of that before, but now it’s staring him in the face. 

“You don’t want this to end?” 

Teddy doesn’t know he feels the need to ask, but it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

James smiles, a cocky-totally-Jamie-smile. “Of course _not!_ Teddy, I’m crazy about you, I...I was about to break house rules for you!” 

He wants to kiss him. He moves close to do so, and he knows the bond is playing a part but Teddy can hear James again, and he feels he wants it too. 

It’s a shame that Ginny has no heart for romantic moments, her sharp cough cutting through the moment. Teddy suddenly goes cold, remembering why they’re here, why there’s awkwardness and anger in the air. 

“Unbelievable! You… I cannot believe this,” she says in her shrill-mum-voice, the one she adopted from her own mother. The one she barely uses. “I have no idea what to say, do... _Just_ go to your room, James!” 

James, who is the epitome of confidence, folds his arms across his chest as that right bloody eyebrow raises so obnoxiously Teddy is sure he’s taking an inhale in James’ behalf. 

Looking from his mother to him, Teddy watches as James’ lips curl into a smirk. “You do realise that you’ll be sending Teddy to my room too. Since we, y’know, come as a pair. We’re bound to one another, bonded for life. It’s just...a little bond, bond. I remixed that muggle song you like, sounds good doesn’t it Mum?” 

Teddy is sure Ginny’s face has never turned so red—if he is honest, he isn’t sure if it is closer to purple than red. He has never seen someone turn purple from rage, but then not many people can be as annoyingly quick-witted as James Sirius Potter. 

“You can’t really send Teddy to a room, Gin. He’s not...ours to punish,” Harry adds, earning a sharp glare from Ginny for his efforts, and a _‘whose side are you on, Potter?’_

Teddy finds Harry being told off rather humorous, not that he’ll admit it in a room full of Potters who are all very well versed in _Expelliarmus_. 

James, who is still seemingly unfazed about how bad this situation is, simply continues to stare from one parent to the next. Teddy isn’t sure if it’s a move anymore, a hopeless move that will get his parents to just see that he’s into Teddy and this isn’t the bond, he’s almost convinced that James is pushing their buttons purposefully. Hoping for some adverse reaction to them finding him in compromising situations with their godson.

Teddy doesn’t like his odds that it's not the latter, he knows James has been wrestling with ill-feelings towards his parents. Even if he isn’t sure what they are. James’ parents love him, so much so, and they are here, living and breathing, which is more than Teddy can say. He doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t understand because if he does, he’s sure that James will get loud and shouty, because not one Potter can communicate rationally, and then he’ll have to admit that he doesn’t know everything about James, which he hates to realise is actually true. 

He’s sure he’s going to implode, there are far too many feelings, and Teddy is sure he’s getting a headache. 

“Plus, y’know, we are grown adults who don’t get _sent to their room_. That’s a factor in this too.” 

Harry looks at his son pleadingly, as though he is actually on his knees begging, “Please James, just...help your dad out.” Teddy sorta feels sorry for him, to so many he’s the Chosen One, but to his own family, he’s an ordinary dad who barely gets a word in. 

Rolling his eyes, James drops his arms and Teddy tries to think of something—anything other than the fact that James’ arms are tense and he can see muscles and veins. He can’t think of James, not like this, not right now; not with a room full of tension and veins on the side of his forehead. But it’s all he can think about. James, naked, finishing what they started. And then there is his heartbeat, James’ strong, persistent heartbeat that thumps in his chest, mirroring his own. 

“Look, this isn’t something to do with the bond, this is... _well,_ we’ve been ‘violating’ one another for over a month,” James snarls. “None of you have seemed to notice, which is fantastic.”

_There._

It hits Teddy like the Hogwarts Express. James is upset that no one pays attention anymore. Their focus is on Albus who spends his time in his room or Lily who is off with Merlin only knows who, and James is an adult, and they let their eyes wander. It doesn’t shock Teddy as much as he expects it too, if anything, it rather makes sense. 

The dynamic of the Potter family has always been, James the troublemaker, Albus the quiet, brooding one, and Lily the mischievous but sociable girl who always had somewhere to be. But James is an adult, and he had been forced to grow up, and Teddy begins to see the pieces of James click together. He wonders if James acted up at school because he liked having his parents' attention, especially when it was him, alone, for such a small amount of time. 

Ginny, who hasn’t put two-and-two together, seems to burst or turn into a hurricane that sweeps all of them. “You lied to us?” James scoffed, but Teddy is too focused on how Ginny’s eyes had turned to him. “And _you_ , you should know better. He’s a child!—” 

“I’m twenty _-bloody_ -two, Mum!” 

“—I still _buy_ his socks! You’re a goddamn child, James!” Ginny hissed. 

Teddy, who is only half-surprised, turns to him. “She _still_ buys your socks? You know I’m not going to do that right?” 

James widens his eyes. “I stop her from buying me underwear, like damn, I can’t make her jobless immediately. You have to ease into it,” he says under his breath, but not quiet enough for the room. Not even a little bit. 

Harry, who doesn’t ever say much, and is usually seconds behind the rest, raises both his hands and claps, bringing the attention to him. “Can I talk to you outside, Gin?” 

“You can agree with me here.” 

Teddy finds Ginny’s eyes glaring spells, potions and knives into him. He tries to look away, shifting his shoulders to will the awkwardness away. But he can’t, you can never escape a Ginny Potter glare. 

Sighing, Harry closes his eyes. “I wasn’t going to…” Her sharp glare suddenly burns directly into Harry. 

Teddy feels like he should leave, exit quietly from the room, leaving a small gap that makes himself and James feel something, but not too much they’ll pass out. He just needs a little bit of space, a little bit of distance from animosity and what is about to be a war of all wars. 

“ _Look,_ James is actually with a responsible, and likeable person, who we actually like. He’s not...slumming it or sexing half of Diagon as you thought. He’s also not dating a brainless idiot who thinks that I’m a figment of their imagination,” Harry declares, and Teddy meets James’ eyes and he only shrugs. “This is a miracle, _really_. I mean, Teddy _is_ quite a catch.” 

“Geez, thanks, Dad. Sorta sounds like you thought I’d scrape the barrel, but least I’ve got Teddy, ay?” 

Harry glares from the corner of his eye at James, but James is enjoying himself too much to care. 

“Ginny, look at me,” Harry’s hand extends out, a soft smile on his face—one that makes Teddy want to leave the room even more than before, “he’s _really_ happy. Isn’t that all _we_ wanted?” 

Ginny continues to glare for a second or two more before taking Harry’s hand and moving closer. “I don’t appreciate being lied too.”

“Technically speaking—“ James begins but is immediately cut off by two piercing parental glares. Teddy is almost thankful for a second that he doesn’t have to experience that. “OK, alright, _sorry_. I should have said I was dating. More specifically, I should have given you a warning that it was Teddy. _Alright_?” 

He doesn’t really want to be a part of this, somehow feeling like shuffling back out of the room will be better for all parties involved, but again, the bond keeps him there, and weirdly so does James. James who is in his head, trapped and enveloped, extending himself out through Teddy pleading with him not to move. So he remains, but just for James, in an awkward moment where he suspects the family he has grown up with, doesn’t think him and their son would be good together. It festers at the doubt that Teddy already has. It fuels everything even more and makes it grow out of the box he has managed to stuff it into so far. Now, it’s become a beast and he knows he will never be able to rid himself of it now. 

Not without help.

Possibly not without James.

They think he’s a catch, but Ginny needs to be talked to. They didn’t instantly jump in the air like James thought they would, and they still keeping burning glares into Teddy like he suspects they would do. If anything, Teddy is more right than James. And it hurts, it hurts far more than Teddy can process.

“Teddy.”

Snapping his head up, he quickly swallows as he finds everyone’s eyes fixed on him. _Shit_. 

Ginny has a soft smile on her face, one she used to offer him, but now he suspects it’s forced. “I’m glad it’s you, I hope you know that. I mean, I’d rather it be someone like-you, not you-you, because well, this is a lot and the age gap, but, overall, we do like you Teddy.”

He wants to mutter, that’s a relief, but he knows he won’t be able to say it convincingly. Teddy is too pent up with annoyance and rejected emotions to say anything forced. So he nods, because it’s all he can do and he knows the moment he leaves, his brain will already rewrite this entire situation and paint every positive moment into a negative. It's just who he is, and its why he likes James because James is positive and bright. 

He almost wants to say that, to spew off a bunch of things he really likes about their son, but he doesn’t. He can’t, even if he would mean every single one. 

“Thanks, Mrs Potter. Sorry, again, for… y’know,” Teddy mumbles.

He doesn’t miss the flicker of pain that registers over her face at the use of her former formal-name, but Teddy highly doubts he is ever going to be able to call her Ginny, even if she hasn’t been Mrs Potter to him since he was a toddler. But then, she’s hasn’t also been the mother of someone he is dating either. 

“Teddy?” 

He looks up, staring at the woman whose face is twisted and her voice is stern. “It’s Ginny, alright? Always.” 

Teddy feels James running a hand down his spine, and he isn’t sure if the touch makes him feel like jumping into the air or if it’s Ginny, either way, Teddy doesn’t mind. He just nods. 

“Sorry again, Ginny.” 

He knows there all along way off being a happy family, but he can feel it’s a start.

* * *

Neither of them got any sleep that night. 

Everyone knows, and it’s not as bad as James ever predicted, but the looming realisation there’s so much of one another they don’t know grows in the tiny room. James wishes he had agreed to go back to Teddy’s flat, but he’s still a little angry and hurt, and digs his heels in. 

He promises himself he’ll work on it, if only for Teddy. 

The two of them curl around one another, Teddy—who is far better at charms—extending the bed, making it more comfortable. James wants to laugh at the irony of how many sleepovers they shared over the years, and how this one suddenly feels wrong—almost naughty. 

Teddy giggles when he points this out, and the way his lips brush against his own makes his whole body light on fire. He ghosts his fingers over Teddy’s cheek, feeling the fire burning inside of him, and he wonders if they’re actually burning, if they’re burning for one another, glowing and igniting. 

James doesn’t want the gentle touches to end, but he knows why they do. 

“Not here,” Teddy mumbles against him, sealing another kiss before running his fingers through James’ hair.

It’s his favourite, the way Teddy runs his fingers through his hair. James never wants it to stop when it begins, but it always makes him sleepy and his eyes flicker before closing, and then suddenly there’s sunlight. Which is exactly what happens. 

Something feels different, almost right, when they wake up. But the morning goes so quickly that it’s a shock when the stuffy-looking man is in the Potter kitchen. His lips move, but James is focused on his purple cheeks and round nose to hear what is being said. 

He’s also pretty focused on Teddy’s heartbeat, knowing he’s going to miss it when it’s gone. 

James does, in fact, hate when their bond is broken. 

It doesn’t hurt, but he feels it should. He feels disconnected, like there is something missing, and when he looks at Teddy, he appears to think the same. He wants to reach out, brush him and feel the shudder of comfort, but James knows he won’t, so he doesn’t. 

James is more thankful than he ever has been when the room empties, and the two of them are stood alone in his families kitchen. It shouldn’t feel odd, but it does. 

“Y’alright?” 

Teddy only nods. “You?” 

_I miss you, Teddy._ “Yeah, course,” James smiles, offering a winning one because if he can’t fake happiness in a room full of his family when can he. “Least we don’t have to do everything together now?” 

He's trying to find positives to this situation, even if he hates it, even if he wants to run back in time and undo the bond ever being removed. James has come to like it, hearing Teddy's thoughts, even if the entire time he hates them. 

“I kinda miss you in my… in my head,” Teddy offers, and James’ eyes widen. “What? I can share things.” 

“Not easily,” James taunts, and he’s surprised when a laugh comes out of Teddy, but it’s not one that brings him comfort, but rather distress. 

“I struggle with being enough, Jamie. It’s why I see someone. I work tirelessly to undo some of the work against my dad, and I know everyone sees him in me, but I don’t feel like I’m me.” 

James scrunches his lips up because that sounds so familiar it almost stings. “Yeah, I feel that.” 

A silence falls between them, and James watches in earnest as Teddy’s eyes warm a little before he smiles. 

“I never really thought… I guess I forgot you’d understand,” Teddy mumbles as he takes a step closer. “I’m so used to keeping everything locked away, I don’t really know how to let you in.” 

James bridges the gap, taking another step as he hears a scuffle on the other side of the door. He knows it’s his parents, he knows there are ears listening in with charms and _Extendable-Ears_ , but he doesn’t care. He stopped caring when he thought he could possibly lose Teddy, when he didn’t feel enough. 

“You think you’re old for me,” James says, “you ever considered that I feel too _young_ for you? That I won’t be enough for you?” 

Teddy shakes his head. “Not for a second. Not ever, not even once, has that crossed my mind. If you can hear me, I wish desperately that you can.” 

James shrugs, biting down on his cheek. “I didn’t want to lose the bond.” 

“Me neither,” Teddy whispers and James shakes his head as he laughs. “We’re pretty terrible at talking.” 

He goes to speak, ready to agree but he hears a too right that sounds suspiciously like Albus, but James isn’t mad. He knows everything has changed, he knows how everything will be different now when Teddy comes round. But he thinks it will be better; less dishonesty and hiding. 

“You’re a shit liar, y’know that?” James laughs as Teddy frowns. “I noticed the way you looked at me.”

A suspicious Harry-sounding voice speaks up next, _told you, I’m not blind_. James is a little thankful his mum is there, loudly shhing—it’s the start of approval.

“Can hardly hide it, you walk around topless.” 

James offers a wink, accompanied by a grin. “You… wanna go get some food? Maybe... talk?” 

Teddy nods his head, holding his hand out. “I’ve wanted to take you out since you made me drink tequila that night.” 

“Should have just asked.”

He watches the embarrassment settle over Teddy’s face, the tips of his hair going red. “I was scared, but now that I know there is nothing scarier than being in _your_ head, I might ask you.” 

“I’m _offended_.” 

Teddy leans in, so close James notices Teddy’s eyes change from his usual soft green to mirror James’. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

If the bond was still there, James would be adamant that Teddy would have felt a knot tighten in his stomach and a match strike in his chest. 

“I’d like that, Teddy.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Find Me On Tumblr: [josiegrae](https://josiegrae.tumblr.com)


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